


chalupas and a pyro raccoon

by hailingstars



Series: unbelievably unlikely (febuwhump 2020) [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Drunk Peter Parker, Fire, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter is not smart sometimes, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Taco Bell, febuwhump 2020, fires and alcohol don't mix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22588825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailingstars/pseuds/hailingstars
Summary: Peter remembered something from earlier and he tried moving his legs, but just ended up wiggling around on the ground until Mr. Stark pressed down on his shoulder and anchored him to the ground.“Don’t move, Pete.”“I was supposed to bring chalupas,” he groaned.“Trust me,” said Mr. Stark. “Forgetting the chalupas is the least of your problems.”“Am I that ‘urt?”“You inhaled too much smoke, you might have internal bleeding and some broken bones from the fall,” said Mr. Stark. “But I think your aunt should absolutely be your biggest concern.”ORPeter, searching for a Taco Bell, finds an apartment fire instead and goes on a mission to save a bunny from a burning building. Easy enough, if he wasn't drunk.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: unbelievably unlikely (febuwhump 2020) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619662
Comments: 32
Kudos: 325





	chalupas and a pyro raccoon

Peter stood on a sidewalk and watched flames eat away at an apartment building. The heat from the blaze warmed him, and warned him, to stay away. He blinked. He titled on his feet, only to correct himself before toppling over and hitting the pavement.

He should’ve have been there.

He should have been at Taco Bell, and had been wandering the streets, searching for one, except he found the apartment building aflame.

That was the way it happened in Peter’s life. Ask for a taco, get a burning building instead.

The sound of screaming and crying surrounded him along with the smoke, like fog on a fall morning. He was debating, weighing his options, though his mind ran sloppy and slow. All that alcohol had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Still, he tried to push through his haze, tried to decide if stumbling into the building, in his condition, was worth letting down all the people at the party who were depending on him to bring chalupas.

What the trouble really was, no matter how much he strained his hearing, he couldn’t figure out if there was anyone left in the building to save. There was something like a heartbeat, though it was incredibly small and quiet and non-quite human, almost as if it were – “

“Waffles!

Peter looked over to his left and saw a little girl struggling in her mother’s arms.

“Someone helps!” she yelled. “Waffles is still inside!”

He inched closer and asked, “So – someone’s inside?”

The mother crinkled her face, probably at the smell of his alcohol drenched breath. “Her pet rabbits. There just – there wasn’t enough time to grab him.”

A memory hit Peter’s mind. He’d had a pet rabbit once. Granted, it had just been a stuffed animal, but he was still filled with grief whenever he thought about the terrible day May decided he’d needed to be washed and dried. It’d come out of the dryer looking mangled and fried and dead.

“Can I call someone to pick you up? Maybe your parents?” she asked him. “You look a little out of it…”

“No,” said Peter, shaking his head. “Definitely no. Can’t tell Mr. Ssstark.” She frowned at him, and Peter diverted his attention to the girl. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna get your rabbit.”

“No. Hell no. You can’t go in – “

“-don’t worry, ma’am I’m Spider-Man. I – got this.”

“You’re not Spider-Man. You’re just a stupid, idiot teenager!”

Peter blinked at her, then darted towards the fire, except the world spun under his feet. His legs wobbled and he faceplanted on the concrete stairs before he ever made it in the door. His limbs were slow to obey him, but eventually, he scrambled up off his feet and opened the door to the apartment building, withdrawing his hand fast at the heat.

“AHHH, oh yeah, fire’s hot!”

He stepped in the inferno anyway and whipped his head in all directions. Everything was orange, blurred by smoke, and it was disorienting. Breaths weren’t easy, and Peter was beginning to feel like this was a bad idea.

Peter wiped sweat of his forehead with the back of his hand and continued into the fiery building, anyway. He strained his ears, listening for that small heartbeat, as he moved up the stairs and walls collapsed in the lobby as he left it behind.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find Waffles.

The rabbit stood down the hallway, screeching, the walls on both sides completely aflame. Peter spotted his escape route, a window behind Waffles, and although flames was already creeping up that wall, too, it was his best chance.

He raced down the hall as fast as his blood alcohol level would allow him to. He grabbed Waffles, who looked strange for a rabbit, but Peter paid no mind as it struggled in his arms, biting and clawing at him, then charged through the window.

Peter landed on the ground in a pile of glass, rabbit tucked safely under his arms. Waffles continued his struggle, and Peter didn’t have any strength left to hold him. He let it go, tried to breath, tried to ignore the way his head spun, and his body throbbed, and the heat still trapped under his skin.

His breath had a raspy, scary sound, and before he knew it, the mother from earlier hovered above him. Peter used the last of his strength to fish his phone from his pocket and offer it to her.

“Time to call Mr. Stark now.”

*

Mr. Stark arrived in his Iron Man suit.

He landed next to where Peter lay on the ground and kneeled by his side, placing a hand over his chest and asking him to focus on just breathing.

The rush of comfort Mr. Stark’s appearance brought made his eye heavy, made him aware of just how tired he was. He fought to keep them open, but it was a losing battle and after just a few seconds, they fluttered shut.

“Hey,” said Mr. Stark. He shook his shoulder and Peter’s eyes snapped open. “Stay awake. Help’s almost here.”

“Mmm so tired.”

“And drunk,” said the little girl, who had a rabbit locked in her arms. It was funny. Waffles looked completely different now. Less strange, more like a bunny.

Peter remembered something from earlier and he tried moving his legs, but just ended up wiggling around on the ground until Mr. Stark pressed down on his shoulder and anchored him to the ground.

“Don’t move, Pete.”

“I was supposed to bring chalupas,” he groaned.

“Trust me,” said Mr. Stark. “Forgetting the chalupas is the least of your problems.”

“Am I that ‘urt?”

“You inhaled too much smoke, you might have internal bleeding and some broken bones from the fall,” said Mr. Stark. “But I think your aunt should absolutely be your biggest concern.”

Peter made an inaudible sound and let his eyes fall shut again. Not to sleep, but only to ruminate on the trouble to come.

*

The ambulance took him to the newly renovated Avenger’s Tower.

His lungs were pumped with oxygen through a facemask on the ride there, and Mr. Stark told him, in a whisper, that there wasn’t really anything wrong with his organs or his bones. It’d been a damage control comment, because, apparently, in his drunken haze, he’d told citizen he was Spider-Man.

He hardly remembered that now, laid in a hospital bed, hooked up to IVs feeding him fluids and antibiotics, fading in and out of sleep while Mr. Stark played on his phone at his bedside. 

It was May who snapped him out of his sleepy haze. She marched into the medbay room, making Mr. Stark sat up straighter in his chair, and strode across the room and aggressively kissed Peter’s forehead.

“You’re okay?”

Peter blinked sleep away. “Yeah, I think, Mr. Stark said – “

“Good,” May cut him off. “Cause you’re about to hear it. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Um- “

“You ran into a burning building, without a suit, drunk off your ass,” said May, shaking her head. “What in the hell would possess you to drink that much?”

“Uh, well,” said Peter. He didn’t really think May or Mr. Stark wanted to hear this story, definitely didn’t think he’d be better off after telling it, but May was glaring at him and her eyes were enough to pull a confession. “Well – Ned and I were at this party, right? And you’re always telling me to know my limits, and I just thought, with my enhanced metabolism and all that – I just, I greatly overestimated my limits.” 

May stared at him, unimpressed.

“Really?” asked Mr. Stark, a curious look on his face. “How much alcohol does it take to get a spider-boy’s BAC level that high?” 

“Not as much as you’d think actually” started Peter, only to stop without answering when he caught sight of May’s expression. He gulped. “What? At least I saved Waffles!”

Mr. Stark laughed. “Kid, you didn’t save the bunny.”

“What? Yes I did.”

“No – you saved Rocky, the raccoon that’s been living inside the walls and driving everyone insane. Firefighters think he might’ve started the fire in the first place,” said Mr. Stark. He chuckled again. “What did you think the antibiotics were for? And all those scratches on your arm?”

Peter groaned and threw his head against the pillow.

He supposed that was his life.

Try to save a bunny, save a pyro raccoon instead.

“At least it wasn’t a radioactive raccoon,” said Peter, rubbing the bite and scratch marks on his arms. “Is Waffles okay?”

“He hopped out on his own.”

Peter sighed in relief, and he might have been imagining it, but May’s eyes got a little softer.

“And, Rocky, too?”

“Animal Control took him to the Vet,” said Mr. Stark. Peter got an idea, a really, really good idea, but Mr. Stark seemed to be able to read his mind. “Pete, do _not_ ask if we can keep the raccoon.”

“Aww.”

A comfortable silence settled over the room, until Peter’s eyes wandered back over to May and he saw her anger for what it really was, fear. It was a selfish thing, to Queens and to her and to Mr. Stark, to gamble his life the way he did that night.

Some of it had been an accident. He’d thought he was invincible, thought his Spidey powers meant he could drink endlessly to no effect, when that obviously wasn’t the case. There had been a moment, one he remembered, though it was hazy, where he realized how fast he was losing himself and kept going, caught up in the party.

“I’m sorry, May,” said Peter.

May gave him a soft smile. “You’re forgiven, but you’re still grounded.” She turned her head to Mr. Stark. “I was thinking two weeks.”

“I was thinking three.”

“Mr. Stark!” said Peter. “Who’s side are you on?”

“My own,” he said, with a shrug. “I’ve never grounded anyone before, I’m drunk with power.”

“Three it is,” said May, while Peter glared at his mentor. She gave Peter another kiss, that time on the cheek, and wiped the hair off his forehead. “I love you. Please take better care of yourself.”

“Love you, too, May.”

She left Peter and Mr. Stark alone in the medbay room, telling them she had to get to her next shift. It was only after she was gone, after the room melted into complete and utter silence, that Peter’s stomach gave a low, loud rumble.

Mr. Stark looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Chalupas?”

Peter nodded his head. Nothing sounded better.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!! tomorrow is a two parter!! and it's filled with angst!! 
> 
> kudos and/or comments let me know what you think! 
> 
> [come yell at me on tumblr](https://hailing-stars.tumblr.com)


End file.
